


Some Dobbin's Problem

by Spiderheart



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: Gen, Genderfluid Character, how do ponies do drag? I don't know but I'm gonna find out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 06:03:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19941409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiderheart/pseuds/Spiderheart
Summary: Rarity gets her first order from a very special pony performer—and she learns that not everyone is a mare or a stallion.





	1. The New Client

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 

# Chapter 1 

It wasn’t often that Rarity was at a loss for words—especially because she chattered when nervous (a habit that had gotten her through many a fraught social interaction). This pony in her shop, however, had her tongue-tied. Not because the pony was famous, or even beautiful, but for a much simpler fact:

Rarity had no idea if this was a lady or a gentlestallion. Whoever and whatever they were, they had very odd wings, indeed—they didn’t have any feathers, and they weren’t flutterwings, they were _dragon_ wings—well, that was the first thing a _lady_ would think.

‘Welcome,’ she managed. ‘I’m Rarity.’ She forgot her usual welcome speech, in the confusion.

‘So am I,’ said the strange pony with a strange tone of soft laughter. ‘Sorry, that was a little joke. I’m called Torchsong.’ Their voice was low and velvety, very pleasant, but very… confusing.

‘What um, what are you interested in?’ Maybe Rarity could figure out if they were a mare or a stallion _that_ way.

‘Oh, something in glitter velvet.’

‘Oh, my, yes! We have _lots_ of lovely…’

The pony cleared their throat gently, and Rarity turned from showing off all the vivid colours to see Torchsong over at the _funeral_ wear, which Rarity kept in the corner. ‘Do you have anything in black with glitter?’

‘I… erm… why do you need that?’ The pony was already dark purple, with a black mane, black clothes would only muddy that colouration. ‘A nice, bright colour would bring out your lovely blue eyes, and that white streak in your mane!’

‘No, I wear black for my performance. It looks best with the glitter. I like this sheer fabric, perhaps something daring….’

Daring? In _black?_ Unheard of!

‘Well,’ Rarity said, ‘I suppose it would be a very _subtle_ look.’

‘Yes,’ said Torchsong, ‘yes, I like subtle.’

Rarity finally saw the cutie mark, as Torchsong trotted over to her, and it was an orchid of the most exotic and strange sort. It looked almost… untoward, Rarity thought firmly. But it was a flower, of course it couldn’t be untoward. ‘I’m sorry for my distance,’ Torchsong said, ‘you’re the first person to say “welcome” to me, and not immediately seem to regret it.’

‘That’s very unlike Ponyville,’ Rarity said. ‘Perhaps it is because you’re tall?’ It might have also been the tales of the Night Mare, but Rarity had never believed in such things. ‘You mentioned a performance—do you…’ that voice was very nice, very smooth. ‘Sing?’ It was terribly rude to assume based on a pony’s name.

‘Something like that,’ Torchsong said, whickering softly in amusement. ‘Why don’t you come and see for yourself? Just come downtown around eight tonight.’

Downtown? To the _Theatre_? Rarity was already planning her outfit. She tried to take the measurements of the new pony, who shied from the tape.

‘I have my own measurements, they’re quite specific,’ Torchsong said, pulling a piece of paper from their pocket. ‘Thank you, just send the bill to the address.’

They practically stampeded out of the boutique, after that, and Rarity wondered why. She’d noticed, of course, that Torchsong was a bit chubby (not that a lady discriminated—bespoke meant Rarity served a _lot_ of chubby ponies, and she prided herself on the quality of her fit and the way she could flatter _anypony_ with her designs); but they had walked with such confidence, right up until the measuring tape had come toward them. Why come into a bespoke fashion boutique if you didn’t want to be measured? Well, Rarity thought, looking over the list of measurements, these were certainly thorough and exacting; the tall pony must have some experience with sewing. There was also a list of words scribbled on the other side: clingy, slinky, sexy.

Something subtle, but daring; something clingy and sexy—Rarity liked a challenge, and it wasn’t often ‘sexy’ was requested. She wasn’t really _that_ kind of shop, though that wasn’t to say she _couldn’t_ or _wouldn’t_. She supposed it was her ladylike nature that made people think she might shy from that sort of thing.

The pattern wasn’t even drafted by the time Rarity was closing up her shop and getting ready for the Theatre. Perhaps she’d wear her fluffy wrap, and her diamond necklace….


	2. This Episode's Lesson

Rarity entered the theatre district feeling both thrilled and lost. She looked at all the marquees, but none of them had Torchsong’s name. She wandered around in confusion, worried, until she saw _another_ pony whose gender seemed a mystery, talking to a pony who looked like a _very_ feminine mare—almost _too_ feminine, with a big pink mane, and… Rarity went up to them.

‘Ahem, hello, I was _personally_ invited by Torchsong—after receiving a commission—’

They laughed, not at her. ‘You must be the _modiste_!’ the pink-haired pony said, in a syrupy voice.

‘Yes!’ Rarity said, flattered by the posh term. ‘I am. Of course, Torchsong was _very_ much in a hurry, and I believe er,’ here it was again, the mare-or-stallion problem.

‘Torch forgot to tell you _where_ to come?’

‘The silly dobbin does that,’ said the pony with the pink mane. ‘Come with us, darling.’

They were so flamboyant, so fabulously dressed, so… ladylike? Yet they were loud, and a little flashy, with their sparkle-polished hooves—and their _language_! Still, a lady had manners… ‘I’m Rarity,’ she offered, as she walked with them. They were both so _tall_ ….

‘I’m Velvet Gold, and _this_ fabulous queen is none other than Pixie Pastel.’

‘Have you ever been to Celestia’s Crisis, darling?’ Pixie asked, as they went down to a little basement door in an old run-down townhouse. When the door opened, they could hear all manner of ponies laughing and talking. The place was packed. They checked their coats with the clerk at the door, and everyone wanted to talk to Pixie, complimenting her frilly dress, on her makeup. Rarity just tried to keep up with the strange words peppering their speech.

Eventually, Pixie left them, saying she had to prepare for the performance. Rarity realised that must be the reason for the exaggerated makeup—ponies on stage needed it to be seen in the bright lights. Rarity hadn’t quite expected to be in a cider bar, but she looked up at the ceiling, realising all the lights were from festival strings of coloured fireflies, in a pleasing pattern of purple, pink, and orange stripes.

‘Had them put in recently,’ said Velvet, seeing her looking. ‘The old ones were faded.’

‘They’re lovely,’ Rarity said. ‘So unique, lighting the whole place like this.’

‘And much safer than candles,’ said a pony with an accent warm as Applejack’s, but somehow with a bit of edge.

‘Rarity, this is Cerise Corral,’ Velvet said proudly. Cerise kissed her hoof.

‘It’s nice to meet you,’ Rarity said, confused—this pony was wearing a dress, why was she kissing Rarity’s hoof?

‘Mares, stallions… and those of us who know better,’ came a ringing, velvety, familiar voice from the stage. ‘Welcome to Celestia’s Crisis—or, as we like to call it, Some Dobbin’s Problem. I’m Canter Black, sit back, get your bits ready, and shut the buck up while we’re talking!’

It was Torchsong; but now, they were in a dress as outlandish as Pixie Pastel’s—well, not quite as _frilly_. It was definitely clingy, and black velvet, though not a grade Rarity would use, herself—she understood the meaning of the word _daring_ though—the back of the gown was so low, the tip of the V looping under the pony’s tail! More than daring, it was almost obscene; and covering their cutie marks was a very old-fashioned way of obscuring their identity.

Canter Black and Pixie Pastel put on a show that mixed witty vulgarity with songs. They made fun of each other, the crowd, and Canter’s voice was more than talented. Rarity was _inspired_ by all the strange glamour, the way these ponies made fun of… of something she hadn’t known was there, because it had never _not_ been. And Canter… once, Canter had made fun of her, and Rarity had felt _honoured_ , strangely enough. It had been a very funny joke, very… different. Rarity liked it. She wanted more. When the show was over, she was among the loudest ponies screaming for an encore.

-

‘And then she _insulted me_! Me! She said it was clear from my drink that I was a—what?’ Rarity was telling all her friends about her amazing night, but none of them seemed to be very enthusiastic.

‘Am I hearing this right?’ Twilight asked.

‘You do know yer smilin’ when you talk about that insult, Rarity?’ Applejack added.

‘Oh, but it’s _different_ when it’s one of _them_. It’s practically an _honour_.’ Rarity tossed her mane.

‘Um, sorry to interrupt, but did you say Canter Black was, er, a mare or a stallion?’ Fluttershy asked.

‘Oh, well, if there’s _one_ thing I learned last night, it’s that some ponies know better.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dobbin is a slang for horse; it's not very nice, which is why I chose it as the ponyland equivalent of 'b——h'. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun coming up with ponified names for some of my fave drag queens: Latrice Royale (Cerise Corral) and Trixie Mattel (Pixie Pastel). 
> 
> Unfortunately, I couldn't figure out how Katya Zamolodichkova could be ponified. 
> 
> Celestia's Crisis is a loving tribute to Marie's Crisis, in NYC. And yes, they do call it 'some bitch's problem' when you go there. 
> 
> 'Ladies, gentlemen, and those of us who know better' is something I've heard a drag queen say at a show, and I loved it.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments? Questions? Bonus Features? Come over to [my discord](https://discord.gg/Mvygfnn)!


End file.
